


wide eyes

by cocomelly



Category: South Park
Genre: Fluff, Kyman - Freeform, M/M, cartman really likes comparing kyles attitude to rain, kyle is cute n angry and cartman can't get enough of it, kyle may or may not be denying his feelings, pining!cartman, pining!kyle, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-24 03:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocomelly/pseuds/cocomelly
Summary: the boys are in high school and life in south park has never been more mundane, until cartman begins to realize why kyle has been the pinnacle of his antagonistic behavior all these years
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman
Comments: 15
Kudos: 89





	1. Pitter-Patter

**Author's Note:**

> get rdy for some very confused boys <3 i had plans to start a much darker fic but this one just sorta started flowing. i haven't written in a good bit so POV may be choppy, forgive me ! enjoy!!

Kyle stood stiff beneath the lifeless flickering of a street lamp, right up a road he had no clue the name of. The blocks of this town had become a memory singed into his brain at this point, and he didn’t need the names of the roads and streets. Each block may as well have been tattooed on the back of his hands, arms, and all.

He was right outside of the town’s local diner, watching the sun hang low over the mountains. Winter days made for shorter days, but it wasn’t stopping that last bit of 5 o clock sun from peeking through the clouds to kiss Kyle’s cheek with warmth. The air was so cold, but the sun was pleasant nonetheless. 

Stan stood next to him, taking occasional drags of a cigarette out of a pack of Newports he had a “recently-graduated-buddy” purchase for him. 

“It’s.. fucking fre-ezing out here,” Stan forced out, arms folded in an attempt to combat the wind’s chill. “God.” 

“Stop smoking those damn things, and maybe it wouldn’t be such hell for you to have to be outdoors in the winter.” Kyle said, as if he hadn’t said it a million times before. Time and time again, Stan absolutely never heeded Kyle’s advice when it came to drug use. Stan’s past responses were clear in Kyle’s head: 

_ “It’s cool if you just experiment, dude. Like, not do it a lot but… just once. Wouldn’t you try something new at least once?” _

Kyle couldn’t make sense of that. Stan continued to smoke cigarettes after his first one last year, defeating the purpose of it being a one-time experience at all. To no one’s surprise, Stan’s drinking problem hadn’t gotten any better either over the past few years. Kyle knew it had to have been common sense to everyone at this point — if it feels good and it’s bad for you, do it once and you’re hooked. Yet, not everyone’s psychological cogs and gears turned the way Kyle’s did. He was well aware, but that wasn’t going to stop him from calling Stan a crackhead every opportunity he got.

“They’re bad for the environment too.” Kyle sighed quickly, plucking up a quite dated cigarette smoked by God-knows-who from the crunchy grass. He stuffed it into the cigarette receptacle, glad he was wearing his gloves. 

“So is the carbon footprint our houses are leaving.” Stan said half-heartedly, flicking ash onto the fine line separating the grass from the sidewalk’s asphalt.

Kyle nodded, avoiding verbal agreement so he could hold his breath while an exhaled smoke cloud drifted by his nose. 

“I’m almost done,” Stan reassured, “I can barely stand this cold much longer anyways.” 

The sun had freshly sank beneath the mountains now, and the warmth had left Kyle’s face. 

“I just worry about you, Stan.”

“And worrying’s just your thing, dude.” Stan smiled. He’d reached the final few puffs of his cigarette. 

“Maybe it is okay to take a risk and try something once every now and then, but you _ do _ have an addictive personality. That ‘one time’ is just you knocking down a bunch of dominoes.” Kyle said. Something eerily reminded him that he had had this conversation once before.

Stan shoved what was left of his cigarette into the receptacle. “So I didn’t _ literally _knock over each domino, though.”

Kyle watched him. That couldn’t have been Stan’s entire response. Stan returned Kyle’s gaze with a smile.

“Wouldn’t you say things just have their own, unique turn of events sometimes? Like, one thing leads to another and all that?” 

“Stan, you _ know _you have control over —“ 

“I have control. And I know that a cigarette is good as hell on a cold day.” Stan interrupted, much to Kyle’s frustration. 

Stan let his hands retreat to his pockets for warmth. “All I’m saying, Kyle, is that maybe it’s not an addictive personality. Maybe I just enjoy it.” 

Kyle let him talk. They had been out here for quite a while now, the sky was turning purple and Cartman and Kenny were waiting inside the restaurant for the two of them to return from their little smoke break. 

“Your guilty pleasures are there, Kyle, I’m sure.” Stan continued, “You should just go with it. Your morals are like, impenetrable or something, but it can’t be healthy to be a saint all the time. Life’s short, y’know…”

“Shorter when you smoke.” Kyle interjected, smiling as he nudged Stan toward the front doors of the restaurant. They audibly relished in the warmth that hit them once they reentered. 

—

“What’d you do out there — suck each other’s dicks or something?” Cartman was sure to quickly swallow his water in order to make his timely jab. 

Much to Cartman’s dismay, his jab rolled off of Kyle like raindrops on a windshield. Stan and Kyle took their seats next to each other, across the booth from Kenny, who was beside you-know-who. 

“Stan had to smoke.” Kyle said, a hint of a condescending attitude; It was indistinguishable if it was caused by Stan or Cartman specifically. No one could have guessed anymore, it truly didn’t take much for Kyle to have an attitude these days. 

“You smoke too? I saw you with a little Marlboro pack in your pocket.” It seemed to be clear the reaction Cartman wanted to elicit, knowing very well how Kyle felt about smoking. 

Raindrops rolled off again. It went in one of Kyle’s ears and out the other, and all he said was an expected “No, thank you.” when the waitress timely asked if their table needed anything else. 

This wasn’t out of the ordinary whatsoever, and had become quite a mundane part of Cartman’s life. Kyle’s reactions, his shrill responses and the way his face flushed — it brought some sort of clarity to Cartman, a comfort almost. It was like rain. 

Rain that came down hard; Rain that was aggressive, unforgiving, destructive, and brought thunder that kept you up at night. Rain that brought wind and hurricanes and tornadoes and rain that was loud and made you tremble — rain that made you wonder if you’d be around at all to see a tomorrow. 

But that rain leaves. It always leaves, and the same rain returns — just as soon as you cursed the hurt and suffering it brought upon you — it returns with a calm. Gentle, almost loving taps at your skin and nose, a sweet scent of a fresh rain that brings life instead of destruction. Rain that made you happy to be alive. 

Yeah, Kyle was like rain. 

“Hey, fatass. Let’s go.” 

Cartman peered up to see Stan and Kenny making their way out of the diner, Kyle gazing down at him. Cartman scooted out and up from his seat. 

Kyle took off his hat and pulled his coat’s hood over his head. 

“It’s raining.”

They ushered their way outside. It was dark now.

“Shouldn’t it be snowing or something?” Stan said. None of the boys had driven out to the diner since it was a decent distance from their homes, but it didn’t make sprinting in the cold ass rain any more enjoyable.

“It’s literally sleet.” Kenny said, one of the first few times he had spoken tonight. He was ahead of the rest of them, knowing his house was a bit further away. 

“It sucks.” Stan shouted across the loud pitter-patter of icy rain. They couldn’t have cared less what was spilling out of the sky, they just wanted to get the hell inside. The four of them maneuvered block after block and crossed street after street and — Jesus, weren’t their houses closer to the diner than this? 

They turned a corner, and Kyle, with his arms clutching his hood, nearly fell flat on his side; —“_ Fuck!” _— His boots were getting far too slick to be on the wet sidewalk. He finessed, and caught himself on two feet successfully. 

Cartman observed. What an opportunity that could’ve been. 

As Kyle let the anxiety of a near-fall dissipate, he shot Cartman a millisecond-long glance as he resumed his hasty walk with a bit more caution. Cartman knew Kyle was waiting for the breath of a bitchy sentence, a remark just to piss him off. 

Ahead now, Kyle’s cheeks were warm despite the blistering chill of the freezing rain. Nobody likes falling, and Kyle didn’t like feeling vulnerable. Everyone knows that. 

Cartman still delivered. 

“Why were you going so fast? It’s not like Kenny stole all of your money, _ jew _.” 

Cartman heard Kyle huff. For the many things Cartman said, Kyle had built up a manageable tolerance. He learned letting things get to him would only make his life worse, and learned to cool his temper at least a little. There were some things he just couldn’t control his reactions to, though, and antisemitism struck a nerve. He was already fragile from almost falling. Cartman was aware. 

“Can you fucking let me live for once?” Kyle continued to walk, not bothering to turn his neck to face Cartman, who was hastily walking behind him.

“Ok and? Why’d you slow down? I thought Kenny had all your money.” Cartman said through a smile. He knew what set Kyle off, and saved his best remarks for moments like these — moments when he knew Kyle felt the least bit vulnerable. The louder the thunder, the better. 

“Where is this even _ coming _from, I—“ 

“You basically fell and busted your ass!” Cartman interrupted. 

“Oh yeah?” Kyle could feel a familiar hot anger awakening in the pit of his stomach. “God forbid _ you _had fucking slipped, South Park has never had a magnitude 8 earthquake before.” 

“Please.” Cartman laughed, but inside — something stirred. It was a familiar feeling, too. Something about the way Kyle’s anger fueled him. 

They had finally arrived at their homes. Kenny was long gone, and Stan sped off as well. Stan knew a goodbye wasn’t necessary when the two of them got like this. Kyle tried to fight it, but inevitably caved in to his own emotions nonetheless.

“I’m going inside. I’m wet and I’m cold and I can’t handle your bullshit right now. I can’t.” Kyle huffed again, attempting to stomp to his front door but daintily maneuvering around deep puddles instead. He was soaked enough.

“See you at schoool!” Cartman teasingly, longingly cooed at Kyle as his front door shut. He was hoping Kyle would have stayed and bickered with him for a little while longer, but it _ was _ coming a mixed downpour. He watched Kyle’s front door for a while, then quickly raced two houses down the street to his own

Cold rainwater was dripping from Kyle when he made his way upstairs. He immediately peeled off his soggy clothes, stepping into the shower. He didn’t bother to wait outside of it for the water to heat itself. He was irritated, and the shower’s water was a little warmer than the sleet outside anyway. 

It didn’t take long for the water to ease into a calming, warm cascade down Kyle’s bare skin. He shuddered at such a pleasant temperature change, his toes curling against the padding of his shower floor and a small smile forming across his face. It loosened his muscles in the nicest way, his lips parting open while his head absentmindedly tilted back. It was so soothing, he had almost forgotten about the small argument he and Cartman had on the way home. 

_ That son of a bitch. _ His muscles clenched suddenly. He muttered obscenities to himself and rubbed his eyes. Did every day really have to go this way? He was dangerously close to being _ too _fed up with Cartman’s antics, Cartman’s words, Cartman’s instinct to comment on his every move, Cartman’s hatred-fueled motives, Cartman’s attitude, Cartman’s stupid voice, Cartman’s stupid face, the way stupid Cartman made him feel — 

The shower started feeling more and more like a foggy hot mess that Kyle was suffocating in. He had to get out.

He had dried off and made his way to his bed, loosely clad in a t-shirt and the first pair of boxers he could find. Distant yellow street light filtered into Kyle’s room and onto his ceiling, and despite the fact that he was lying on his belly, he couldn’t help but to stare up at it.

_ I hate him _, he thought to himself. Cartman had evidently not left his mind since his uncomfortable shower. 

_ So much… _

He watched the shadows of raindrops dance and race on his ceiling, body sore from carrying the heaviness of wet clothes on his figure. His eyes had begun to force themselves shut. 

“I… I hate…” 

His fingers loosely gripped his sheets as he drifted off. He furrowed his brows, millions of dim thoughts and questions checking in and out of his head while his body slowly submitted to a decent rest. 

Kyle had fallen asleep to the sound of the icy rain, while Cartman lay awake in his own home. He was admiring it.


	2. Void

_ “I wonder how I got by this week _

_ I only touched you once _

_ Lately I can't find a beat _

_ I used to feel the rush _

  


_ And now I need you to feel the vibe _

_ I need you to see the point _

_ I need you to feel alive _

_ I need you to fill the void _

_   
_

_ I need you to fill the void _

_   
_

_ I need you to fill the void” _

  
  


It was concerning how the mild softness of the song was capable of waking Cartman each day as his alarm. Some people in his life considered him lazy — the association between “fat” and “lazy” was something people saw without even consciously thinking about it. Yet, he never hit snooze. He would even open his eyes and let his entire alarm song play a couple times, or three, every morning. His phone would stop playing the song after the second time, and it pissed him off. He would go into his music library just to play it a few more times.

Sometimes he rose immediately, getting into his routine while his phone lie on his bed vibrating and humming. Usually, though, he would lay and stare at the sunlight shining aggressively on his thin curtains, thinking. That’s what he was doing this morning. He listened to the song about 3 times, analyzing the lyrics. They brought a somber, but peaceful and content feeling to him every morning. He wasn’t positive why, but it always made him feel better about the day ahead.  _ Just somethin’ ‘bout it _ , he figured. No matter how many times the song played, he was never tired of it.

Cartman liked waking up early. He was clean, dressed, and ready for the day 45 minutes before he had to even drive out to school. Ever since he and his friends stopped relying on the bus, they didn’t have to wake up as early to catch it. Cartman’s body clock never wanted to readjust, so he continued to set his alarm for the same time it’d always been for the past 9 years. 

He was lying in a beanbag on his floor, scrolling mindlessly through Twitter until he decided to go out. Despite the fact he woke up early, he usually skipped breakfast. Seventeen now, he was far from skinny but had lost weight since the time had gone. So much had happened in all of that time. Whether it was because of him skipping his breakfast or not, he was so emotionally enveloped into his morning routine that hunger could never seem to cross him.  _ That would blow Kyle away,  _ he let a muted laugh escape his nostrils.    


  


Cartman arrived at school, waiting in his car in the parking lot. He watched the other kids skrrt in, blasting Juice WRLD and making it a point to hang out by the best looking vehicle in a squad— despite the cold. 

Elementary to high school was a decent shift. Many students, from different elementary schools, all just banded together in such a short time. 

Kyle and Stan rolled in one after the other, parking next to Cartman. They liked parking together and out of the way, they didn’t trust other drivers. Cartman truly couldn’t fathom how he ended up remaining in such a tight knit relationship with his three grade school friends. 

Kenny climbed out of Stan’s car. And Kenny was still poor, Cartman and Kyle still bantered, and Stan was still vomiting whenever a girl got him flustered. 

  


_ Wait —  _ Cartman thought, 

_ Kyle drives Kenny to school.  _

  


Kyle stepped out of his own car. He wasn’t wearing a hat today, red curls pushed back in a mess. Cartman followed suit, getting out and walking around to meet the three of them. 

“What’s going on?” Cartman was looking at them sideways. 

“Huh?” Stan asked. 

“You drove Ke-“

“ _ SHE STOLE MY HEART IN THE TRAILER PARK,  _

_ SO I JACKED THE KEYS TO HER FUCKIN’ CAR!!”  _

“Oh fuck,” Stan said. 

Clyde, Craig, and Tweek were dancing and hopping in the bed of Tokens expensive truck, singing and blasting Rehab as loud as they possibly could’ve on a cold school morning in South Park. 

Token wasn’t happy about it. 

“Guys —“ 

“ _ I’M SITTIN AT A BAR ON THE INSIIIIIIDE-“ _

“Get off my fucking truck!” 

Between their arguing, the truck alarm had started to screech. Token had made the mistake of locking it in the midst of their play. 

“I  _ will  _ call the cops!! Tweek — are you fucking serious?” Token spat. God, he was mad

Tweek had really loosened up a lot over the years, he and Craig had so much fun together antagonizing other people these days. His anxiety was still very much there, but he really eased on the coffee. Tweek simply looked down at Token with a glimmer in his happy eyes and spoke, “ _ Live, dude!!”  _

“Didn’t the cops shoot at you once because you’re black?” Clyde laughed, puffing his cigarette. They were all four late to class, as were everyone else standing in the parking lot. They were quite a show. 

Cartman’s eyes were on Kyle the entire time. Kyle looked so rough today, and it was truly odd for Kenny to ride with Stan after the past four years of Kyle driving him every day—

“Token’s calling them cops!!” 

“Aah!! I’m scared!” Tweek loudly projected his sarcastic acting. 

“Show ‘em those skills, honey.” Craig planted a kiss on his cheek. 

“Shit, we gotta go in.” Clyde said directly after he checked his phone. He quickly hopped out to shut off his car, the one responsible for the blaring music.

“Jesus.” Token huffed as he began to make his way to class. Tweek and Craig were looking a little disheartened. 

Stan broke his attention from their performance. “We gotta go too, guys. They’re gonna kill us with that new attendance policy.”

Kenny started to follow directly behind Stan. He turned back to Cartman and Kyle. “You two coming?”

It was no surprise that he urged them to hurry. They were planted still, standing between the noses of their vehicles and looking dead at each other. Cartman was expecting an explanation. He felt he deserved one. 

“What?” Kyle said, his shoulders were shifted back a little. He didn’t seem to want to engage in any sort of conversation with Cartman right now. 

“What do you mean,  _ ‘ _ what’?” Cartman asked. 

No  _ “Why the fuck are you staring at me”? _ , No  _ “Leave me alone”?  _

Kyle didn’t seem to enjoy being a part of this interaction at all. He let their gaze break, and started to walk away. 

“Kyle!” Cartman pressed, tailing closely behind him.

Even though it was morning, Cartman’s day already started to feel incomplete. The coldness of the air was difficult to sprint against. After the rain and freezing temperatures, Cartman was surprised school wasn’t cancelled today. No school would have been far better than Kyle ignoring him.

He still followed close behind. Something couldn’t take him away from the way Kyle was walking; He watched one boot cross in front of the other, red ringlets bouncing against his neck and whipping against soft gusts of wind. 

Cartman had seen Kyle almost every day for the past 9 years of his life, but something had begun to feel unusually different between them. They were growing up, they changed. Things weren’t the same — but neither of them were letting themselves realize that. 

“Would you stop following me?” 

“Tell me what’s going on.”

Cartman was unaware of how tightly his grasp on Kyle had been; He was unaware of the reckless lengths he had gone to, and would still go to, for Kyle’s attention, Kyle’s eyes on him, Kyle’s dramatically turbulent mood swings —all because of him. It was heavenly, almost. Cartman had himself convinced that his own meanness and spitefulness was what kept him going each day. That he just enjoyed being mean, defensive. That none of his behavior was for anyone but him. 

Cartman was fooling himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bit short, but i wanted to save what's next for its own chapter ;)


	3. Pink

Cartman felt… very strange about it, but didn’t bother deeply questioning why he had to snap himself loose from staring at the back of Kyle’s neck. He pulled himself back to the subject. 

“Why didn’t you drive Kenny today?”

Kyle wasn’t about to draw attention to the fact that he could _ feel _ Cartman’s eyes follow him just now. It may have just been that he could hear Cartman’s zippers and backpack accessories softly jingle as he followed close, but it was almost like a specific point — a specific point on the back of his head that held him in a forced direction, facing away from Cartman no matter what. It was like his brain was subconsciously commanding: _ don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him. _

“Well…?” Cartman pressed, “Are you gonna say anything?”

_ Why the fuck is he being so nosy today? _Kyle thought, still avoiding speaking to Cartman after his last “Would you stop following me?”, as kind and sweet as he could’ve possibly said it. Kyle figured that maybe he didn’t have a valid reason to be upset at Cartman’s skepticism, though. Except that he hated Cartman, and it was none of Cartman’s damn business why he texted Stan and had him take Kenny to school today. 

They entered the school, greeted by warmth and long empty hallways. They were still very late.

Kyle breathed deep. He was hastily making his way to his first class, trying to lose Cartman. Something in him told him that it was hopeless, no matter whether he walked straight into class with Cartman at his side or not. Cartman would follow, despite the fact he didn’t have the same class as Kyle in the morning. He was extremely persistent, Kyle had learned.

Kyle stepped up the main stairs — Biochem was on the second floor. He was pretending he couldn’t hear the sound of Cartman still following behind him.

Cartman hadn’t spoken anymore since Kyle’s last lack of a response. Kyle could feel it, he just knew it, Cartman was anticipating something; It made him nervous, he just wanted to run away from it. He _ knew _ Cartman would try to press what he was hiding out of him one way or another —

Kyle stopped at the top of the staircase. He turned around. He overcame it, he overcame the overwhelming feeling that was keeping him from meeting Cartman’s eye.

_ “Stop.” _

Cartman rolled his eyes. Kyle had confronted him before Cartman did it himself.

“Or what? You’re hiding shit. That’s fucking sneaky. I know _exactly_ when you’re hiding something.”

“As if following me around the entire damn school will help you figure anything out.” Kyle said, his breath hitching the moment he realized he had halfway admitted to it. He nearly admitted to Cartman’s suspicion. God, he was really hoping he wouldn’t be that transparent about it. 

Cartman paused for a moment, and Kyle instantly caught attention of his eyes lighting up. The happiest look was glazed over them, a look that blatantly spoke to Kyle: “_ I’m getting my way.” _

Kyle looked directly back into the gleam of Cartman’s eyes. All morning, so scared to look at him, and here Kyle was. Staring him in the face. Kyle could feel his stomach stir, it was so uncomfortably staggering to be face-to-face with Cartman after last night. 

A mischievous smile started to fill across Cartman’s face. He was still looking down at Kyle -- Kyle was truly only an inch or two shorter than Cartman, but it still made Kyle feel so much smaller than he was happy with. That thought, along with being incapable of breaking his eyes away from Cartman’s -- it was too much. His heart started to stutter. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and he was praying to God that Cartman wouldn’t be able to see it.

Cartman’s eyes plainly glanced down and danced across Kyle’s freckled face, and his smile grew considerably. 

Admittedly, Kyle was feeling silly. He was overcome with bashfulness, not even capable of fathoming how foolish he must have looked right now. _ Hiding shit, _ Kyle thought. _ How would you know? _He could still feel the warmth in his cheeks, far too prideful to be the first to break their gaze. 

“Tell me,” Cartman began. Kyle swallowed. He was an _ awful, awful _liar. “Why did Stan drive Kenny to school today?” 

And Cartman knew he was a bad liar. This position they were stuck in, the pressure of being 20 minutes late to class, the lump in Kyle’s throat, the redness plastered across his face, the way Cartman had some weird fucking magic over Kyle’s body with his own. Kyle felt inclined to spit it out, get it over with. And he was going to. 

But he didn’t. _ Fuck that! _

Kyle let his eyes break away from Cartman’s, despite the powerful desire to stay. He started sprinting down the hallway. 

“You _ motherfucker!” _ Cartman watched Kyle flee down the hall, and Kyle knew he was pissed as ever. Class was close, and Cartman wasn’t about to run after him. Again, Kyle could feel Cartman's eyes burning holes into him as he fled. Kyle was well aware he was going to have to deal with that later, and _ fuck _it would probably be ten times worse — all that much more scary and humiliating and hard to wriggle out of.

Kyle turned the corner, releasing the breath he had been holding. He tried hard to let it escape his mind, but it was bringing an unfamiliar feeling rising in his chest. Kyle couldn’t recall a time he ever felt foolish in front of Cartman without fighting back, without anger flushing through him and letting him spit and yell all he could muster. It made sense. Kyle had been aware for a long time that that was something Cartman yearned for. Kyle knew Cartman loved his attention, whether it came like it should’ve or came like a thunderstorm — Kyle knew it was something Cartman refused to do without.

Kyle made his way to class, finally. He was decently late. As he went to open the door, eyes scanning through the rectangular window at everyone seated, he silently hoped the teacher would let it slide. 

He walked in, and the discomfort of being late and literally _ everyone _looking right at him hit him immediately. Disrupting class was such a horrible feeling. 

“Kyle! Welcome! You missed the quiz at the beginning of class.” 

Kyle blinked. 

“Don’t worry, you can stay a little late after the bell rings to finish. Have a seat.” 

Kyle was thankful his teacher wasn’t a prick. He avoided everyone’s eyes as he made his way to his seat, nothing was worse than being watched. Especially by Eric Cartman. 

_ ...Especially by Eric Cartman. _ Kyle was sitting now and staring blankly at his teacher, words traveling in one ear and directly out of the other. 

Kyle recalled the times he had stumbled out of bed and opened his bedroom door to meet Cartman’s eye; The times that Cartman snuck into his room so sneakily and without permission. He pondered on why it was so damn easy for Cartman to tiptoe into the confines of his own home, and he was seriously grateful Cartman didn’t pick last night to do it again. To his knowledge. Maybe he would start barricading his window, convince his parents to let him install another lock on the door. 

His biochem teacher’s chattering was distant and quiet.

After the dreams he had last night, Kyle was desperately gripping onto his own privacy. No one could know he had woken up in a hot sweat, sheets kicked off his bed and eyes wide, staring at the wall in disbelief. Lustful disbelief, and bitter denial. The same feeling started to grow in his core again. That exact mysterious, almost lewd sensation.

_ “And… proteins… amino acids……” _

Kyle was rightly terrified of his own secrets. Of all the times Cartman had stereotyped him, called him a “sneaky Jew”, Kyle didn’t live up to it. When Kyle was hiding something, something shameful that was crawling with blackmailing opportunities for others, it radiated from him. No matter what it was, Kyle was never great at hiding the truth. Kyle was sure that if Cartman found out, he would use it against him. 

_ “Very important… will be on the midterm…” _

Above all, he wished _ so _badly that he could get Cartman out of his head. 

The hand on his thigh clenched, fingers clawing gently at his denim-clad legs. A hushed sigh escaped his lips.

_ “Broflovski…” _

_ Broflovski _was in the bounds of his mind, and he never wanted to leave it. The intensity, and the details of it all… 

“Kyle!” 

He snapped out of it, his eyes met his teacher’s disappointed face. 

“Any input on what the answer to forty-nine might be?” His teacher asked condescendingly.

Kyle squinted at last night’s worksheet resting in his notebook, still tucked into its folder. He hadn’t bothered to remove it. He wasn’t about to start taking it out. 

“B.” He had never bullshitted so hard in his life. 

“Nice!” His teacher smiled at him, faith restored. 

Kyle swallowed. He had really been getting away with more than he was used to lately. Class dragged on. Kyle forced himself to focus after that.

As the students bustled out of the end of their first period, Kyle sat sadly. He still had a quiz to finish before getting to his next class. As his teacher walked towards him, he gave Kyle very disappointing news:

“Broflovski, you know I had to report you being 25 minutes late to class when I took attendance. They want you in the library after school to make up for the 25 minutes you were absent.” 

Kyle looked up at him with the most pathetic eyes. The realization _ very _quickly struck him that Cartman was late, too. 

“I know.” His teacher sighed, “This new attendance policy really is something else. I wouldn’t have been happy either if I were a student.” 

“Yeah.” Kyle managed. His teacher had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters will probably be abt 2k words now, i just get so excited to post!! luckily updates seem to be frequent ;) hope ur enjoying these gay boys so far


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